


Sweet Shackles

by YumeNoTsuzuki (Yumejin)



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 11:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yumejin/pseuds/YumeNoTsuzuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shadows wrapped around him, forming burning shackles on his ankles and wrists. His staff gone, <i>broken</i>, rested in the Nightmare King’s pale hands. He had lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Shackles

He’d been deep down under the darkness for so, so long. All sense of identity and self was lost. The shadows comforted him, wrapping around him protectively. Suspended in emptiness, he slept, but no dreams would ease the passing of time.

And then he breathed life again in a world new and different… a world where he could neither see nor touch another living being. All that was familiar were shadows, crackling around him with warmth on his frozen skin. Days, years passed and yet, Jack Frost knew not who he was or of the purpose of his invisible existence.

Wasting days away with idle mischief and mindless fun, he tried to suppress the longing for touch, for warmth. He was so cold, even if ice and snow were his natural allies, he still felt frozen in time, frozen in heart.

The moon was silent, always watching him from afar. He felt its heavy gaze upon him every night, as though expecting something…

And then, deep in the void of his darkest dreams, he met the Nightmare King. Tall and handsome he was, burning like the fires of hell. The heat enveloped him, so hot it felt like melting his flesh. Yet he could not draw away – this man could see him, hear him, touch him… He whispered sweet nothings into Jack’s ear, his long fingers curling around the Winder Sprite’s cold wrists. He always vanished come cold, frosty dawn, leaving nothing but the frightening emptiness again.

The shadows were stirring, as though something old and evil had woken up, covering the world in darkness. The Guardians arrived in all their shining glory – said he had to help save the children. It was all overwhelming, surprising and foreign to him. They were all so different from him – every child in the world knew of Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, the Sandman… but he was a nobody; unable to do more than make pretty patterns in the ice.

He teased and played pranks on Bunny mercilessly – that much was familiar to him. They laughed together, played together – until the lights started going out. They vanished almost overnight, leaving but a handful of children who stayed true to their faith. The Guardians’ power was diminishing and they were all so, so scared. They wouldn’t be seen by the children anymore.

He’d never been seen. Not even once. He was merely the cold nipping your nose on a winter day and the ice making you slip and fall on the first step you take out of the house. In the depths of his frozen heart, he was jealous of them, even if fame was not what he wanted. He merely wished for someone to see him, to acknowledge him.

His breath caught when Pitch appeared before them for the first time. Untouchable like smoke, he popped seemingly out of nowhere, his presence heavy and intimidating. Just like in his dreams, he seemed to be looking straight at Jack _, only at Jack_ , his eyes narrowed and impossible to read. He stalked through North’s headquarters like he owned the place, his strides long and graceful. He extinguished the little lights so easily it was frightening, his shadows plunging the world into darkness.

They struggled and fought until the very last light was about to be extinguished. So high in the sky, the battle raged on for hours, wearing out their diminishing powers to the very last drop. Only Jack continued to fight, the grip on his staff stronger than ever. Fuelled only by fear for his friends’ lives, he pushed forth, right past the attacking nightmares as fast as a flash of icy lightning.

They entwined in a deathly dance across the night sky, shadows and ice clashing as fiercely as a storm. Jack broke past all of the Nightmare King’s defences with an anguished yell which broke out of him upon seeing Sandy’s form dissipate into glistening flickers, carried away by the wind never to be seen again.

He was so close, all of his power just dancing on his fingertips, but he could not deliver the final blow. Pitch smirked triumphantly, his tall form towering over Jack in a victorious pose.

And then they gripped him.

Shadows wrapped around him, forming burning shackles on his ankles and wrists. His staff gone, _broken_ , rested in the Nightmare King’s pale hands.

He fell and fell, dragged through the darkness by his restraints. Wind gushed in his ears, but not as a friend this time. It howled and screamed at him, echoing painfully in his head. Jack was scared, more scared than he could ever remember being. He fell deep under the ground, past the Easter Bunny’s tunnels and even further below, right into the heart of the everlasting darkness.

When he woke next, the flickering of lit candles met his light-starved eyes. He blinked in confusion, his hazy mind slowly putting the memories back into place. He’d been fighting Pitch Black… and now, he was in a large cage, his hands and feet unbound, but still burning where the shadows had gripped him tight. A little way further laid his broken staff. No matter how hard he tried, he could not reach it, his fingers just brushing the end teasingly, tormenting him.

“Good evening.”

The Nightmare King emerged from the shadows like smoke once more, his expression pensive, yet firmly set on Jack.

“What do you want?” Frost asked, backing away from the bars of his cage a bit.

“Wrong. What do _you_ want?” Seeing Jack’s confusion, Pitch smiled widely in a way that made shivers run down his spine. “I have seen your dreams, Jack Frost. Even... all of your most _intimate_ nightmares. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all those times you slept, wrapped up tightly in my shadows, hoping to find some solace in them – to ease your idle existence. Your worst fears and your desires are one and the same… aren’t they? You crave touch so desperately it makes your heart ache and yet you are too frightened to reach out to anyone.”

“I-,” the words died in Jack’s throat, unable to protest the truth. His cheeks burned suddenly, a feeling so foreign to his body it was almost frightening.

“Do you like this? The most realistic nightmare, all just for you, Jack Frost,” Pitch asked, his hand suddenly shooting through the bars, his long fingers seizing Jack’s chin. There was a bright, predatory glint in his eyes.

“I can release you from this cage. I can even fix your staff. You just need to open that pretty little mouth and speak,” he paused briefly, his narrowed eyes boring right into Jack’s large, frightened ones. “I hold the power of all the Guardians now. You’ve lost, Jack, and it’s time to choose whether you wish to live or die.”

He gulped, his whole body shivering from the burning heat which was pulsing through his skin under the Nightmare King’s touch.

“Why are you so shy, now that we finally meet face to face?”

Pitch was suddenly in the cage with him, his shadowy form of smoke creeping in as though the bars weren’t even there.

“You and I are not so different, Jack. You do not need to hide your fears or your desires from me,” he caressed the Guardian’s neck now, slowly and lazily. A soft whimper escaped Jack involuntarily, his whole body leaning in just a little bit.

“You’ve spent so long steeped in the shadows of that frozen lake… No wonder my attacks did not affect you as they should,” the Nightmare King mused, trailing one hand up and down Jack’s cold cheek appreciatively. “ _Nothing belongs together better than ice and shadows, Jack…”_

He tried to shake his head, but all denial had melted away under the hot, possessive touch of Pitch Black’s long fingers. The cage around them turned to dust and vanished, but Jack didn’t dare to break contact with those dark, haunted eyes.

“I can give your power back, Jack…You need only to surrender to me.”

His lips were trembling, longing to simply say ‘ _Yes_ ’. This deep down below, hidden in the lair of the Shadow, not even the Moon could see him – so vulnerable and tainted, craving the smallest touch from a man who had killed his friend.

_The light within him was fading… and the darkness was welcoming him home._

When the dreaded word finally slipped from his treacherous tongue, there was no time for regret. He felt his power returning, filling him with his usual energy. Pitch enveloped him like a flame, his body pinning Jack down to the floor. His mouth was claimed roughly, quickly – the burning pleasure washed over his body in waves, awakening in him a desire stronger than ever before. His starved senses were stimulated mercilessly, the taste of Pitch’s mouth on his, the heavy breaths in his ear, the burning touch all over his frozen skin, it was all overwhelming.

And yet he wanted even more.

Hesitant, but desperate – his arms circled around the Nightmare King’s neck, pulling him closer. Pitch gave a pleased growl, the heat of his erection apparent against Jack’s thigh. Impatiently, the Nightmare King yanked him up by his clothes and then they both dissolved into smoke, flying through the halls of his underground castle, suddenly on a huge bed, clothes coming off all too slow for Pitch Black’s liking. Jack’s cold flesh was finally laid out before him, pearly white and perfect, smooth, inviting.

Jack felt hot and exposed in a way he had never experienced before. The Nightmare King’s intense gaze over his body was lustful and heavy, trailing up and down, taking in every detail. His hands joined the exploration soon after, touching every neglected part of the Winter Sprite’s body. Jack was soon writhing under him, soft moans spilling from his lips. He had always been free and unrestrained, but this was _new_ , amazing and addictive…

“…Perfect,” Pitch Black murmured, hovering just above Jack, letting their erections rub against each other teasingly. The Winter Sprite shivered and arched off the bed, just to be closer to that delectable heat. He knew Pitch was a bad influence on him; that he’d get burned, but what was fun without a little risk?

The Nightmare King claimed him roughly; the hot hardness within Jack was tormenting him mercilessly and in the most pleasurable way. It wasn’t gentle or what he thought making love should be like, but for them, it was perfect. Fire and ice clashing, exploding, melting… this was familiar to them and the only way it could ever be. The pace was fast and demanding, making Jack feel like all the intense feelings would burn him out until he was nothing more than a light dusting of snow on the wind. Pitch was slamming into him frantically, his usual composure crumbling for once, revealing only raw passion and unsatisfied craving. Jack knew then, that they wouldn’t be able to forget any of this once it was all over. They had awakened a need too strong to be ignored, always demanding them to clash against one another; each time even more fiercely than the last.

Jack was stroking his cock now, his body feverish and his mind hazy, knowing only that he was _so, so close._

“Pitch-!” his voice caught in his throat and his whole body shook, desperate for release. His legs curled around the Nightmare King’s hips, his back arched….

“Yessss… _come for me_ ,” Pitch commanded, his usually smooth voice strained, also barely holding back. Jack did not need to be told twice. He let it all ago, throwing his head back. He came with a long, stifled moan, his ass tightening around Pitch’s cock.

With a few more thrusts, the Nightmare King came as well, spilling his hot seed inside of the Winter Sprite, who squirmed at the foreign feeling, biting his lip. Pitch collapsed on top of him, his arms curling around his thin body tightly and possessively.

Jack knew he couldn’t go back then, even if he managed to somehow escape the Shadow’s lair, even if he lied to the Guardians about what transpired between him and Pitch… He’d been tainted by the darkness too strongly; he no longer belonged with them. He hadn’t even officially been a Guardian… and while that admission did nothing to ease his conscience, he was willing to altogether ignore it. He wasn’t one to be bound down by rules or some Man in the Moon. He was Jack Frost, a free Winter Sprite. Well, maybe he could stay with Pitch for a while, to humour the man. He could always run away if it wasn’t fun enough… though he didn’t think he could get bored of the possessive, dominating Nightmare King any time soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> Jack is 318 years old, there’s no way he wouldn't wanted to try humans #1 way to have fun….  
> Also title comes from the Megpoid song by Maya - Sweet Shackles. Look it up if you like mildly creepy stuff.  
> ...also[2] I apparently cannot write anything besides smut. This was supposed to be just dark and creepy and look where it ended up. D:


End file.
